Maxime raises an eyebrow. "If no one volunteers, I'll appoint someone."
A very good idea. I nod gratefully to him when our eyes meet.
Too long. Way too long.
Oh God... the next few months will be hell.
Then he clears his throat. "Liam, you'll dance with Aurora."
Okay. That's good. I think.
On shaky legs, I step forward. In the center of the dance studio, I meet Liam, who seems less than enthusiastic but atleast offers me his hand with gallantry. My eyes instinctively want to search for Maxime, but I hold back just in time.
The music starts. I focus on Liam's narrow face and try to establish a connection with him.
From up close, I notice how Liam subtly counts the beats. We take the first steps, and he leads me across the floor, but our movements don't harmonize particularly well. His steps are a few inches longer than what I'm used to with Enzo. I struggle to find my balance at times, but at least I don't stumble. Still, I'm relieved when the music ends, and we assume the final position.
"Aurora, you need to control your shoulders better. And the turns were sloppy," Maxime's voice sounds unusually thin.
I look only at his chest to avoid any danger and nod vigorously. "Got it," I mumble quickly, making sure to position myself as far back on the dance floor as possible, keeping as much distance between Maxime and me as I can.
Sky catches my gaze from a distance and furrows her brow. She must be wondering why I didn't go back to her. Hopefully, she won't jump to any wrong conclusions.
"That's it for today." Maxime paces back and forth with his hands in his pockets. He seems nervous, or am I just imagining it? "I've seen what I need to put together for your individual training plans for the rumba."
The couples applaud lightly before making their way to the exit. I drape my towel around my neck and catch up with Sky.
"Sorry that Maxime stole Liam from you," I apologize, looking at her apologetically.
She waves it off. "No worries. But why—"
"Aurora." Maxime's voice interrupts our conversation. Thank goodness. Who knows what she was going to ask.
I signal to Sky not to wait for me, then turn around. "Yes?" Did I sound innocent enough? Or can everyone hear my heart pounding?
"Can you come here again, please?"
This is not a good idea. With a warning look, I slowly approach him, stopping several yards away and crossing my arms over my chest to keep them from betraying me.
"Is something wrong?" I ask loudly enough for the others to hear.
He looks toward the exit, where the last students are leaving the room, chatting lively. The door remains slightly ajar, and we listen to the fading footsteps in the corridor.
Now we're alone, and he continues to avoid any eye contact. "Madame Durand wants to speak to us." He walks to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the dance studio, hands in his pockets.
The headmistress? Oh no.
I tug at the seam of my towel. "Why?"
"No idea." He glances at the door. "She should be here any minute."
Oh God, what if someone saw us yesterday? "She knows, right?" I ask frantically.
He shrugs.
I feel dizzy. With an unpleasant feeling in my stomach, I lean against the wall. "Okay," I mumble, and no sooner do the energetic clacks of high heels echo in the hallway.
